which was not positively an oath. Even as it stood apart from its context, it wasn't a nice word, and my negotiations came to an end. Went back to my parlour and killed earwigs.

Night.-Man in punt still fishing. He informs me that he doesn't think this a very good place for sport. Caught anything? "Nothing." He is going somewhere else. I find that I can write at night. No noise. I discover for the first time neighbour who looks at the Moon and Jupiter every night through a large telescope. He asks me would I like to step in and see Jupiter? . . . . I have stepped in and seen

Jupiter (who gave us some difficulty in getting himself into a focus) until my head aches. He has a machine for stopping the earth's motion while we look at Jupiter. It is very convenient, as you can't get a good look at Jupiter while the earth, is going round.

Happy Thought. To call my astronomical acquaintance "Joshua." I do. He doesn't like it. No writing to-night. During my absence, five moths, attracted by the gas-light, and at least a hundred small green flies, have perished miserably on my MS. paper and books. . Screams from the ladies' bed-room. Off.. . Maid servant up!!! Lights!! Would I mind stepping in and killing an earwig." Bed. I open my window and gaze on the placid stream. Why, there's a punt; and a man in it: fishing. He is returned. Caught anything? "Nothing." Good night. "Good night."

Third Happy Day. Five earwigs in bath, drowned. Fine day for Typical Developments. Man and punt gone; at least I don't see them. Commenced Chapter 1st. Dear me Music on the water. A large barge with a pleasure party. They're dancing the Lancers. The gardener says, in reply to my question about the frequent recurrence of these merry-makings, "Oh, yes, it's a

S

great place for pleasure parties and moosic. They comes up in summer about three or four at a time all a playin' of different toons. Quite gay like. The Maria Jane brings up parties every day with a band." The Maria Jane is the name of the pleasure barge. Bah! I will overcome this nervousness. I will abstract myself from passing barges and music, and concentrate myself upon-tiddledy tiddledy rum ti tum-that's the bowing figure in the Lancers-hang the bowing figure! Let me concentrate myself upon with a tiddledy tiddledy rum ti tum. It's difficult to remember the Lancers. The barge has passed. Now for Typical Developments.-Message from my aunt, "Would I step in and kill an earwig in the work-box." . . . A steamer! I didn't know steamers were allowed here. "Oh, yes," the gardener says, "it's a great place for steamers. They brings up school children for feasts." They do with a vengeance; the children are shouting and holloaing, their masters and mistresses are issuing orders for landing; thank goodness, on the opposite bank. They've got a band, too. "No," the gardener explains, "it's not their band I hear, that belongs to the Benefit Societies' Club, as has just come up in the other steamer behind." The other steamer! They're dancing the Lancers, too. I must concentrate myself; let me see, where was Typical Developments. Chap. I. Tiddledy tiddledy rum ti tum. With my tiddledy tiddledy rum tum tum. And my tiddledy tiddledy. That's the bowing figure. Now they're bowing, and finish, yes, tiddledy tiddledy rum ti tum. The Lancers is rather fun. .. Goodness! I find myself unconsciously practising steps and doing a figure. I must concentrate myself.

I

Afternoon.-Barges and swearing. Pleasure boat with band, and party dancing Lancers, for the fourth time. Return of all the boats, steamers, and barges; they stop opposite, out of a mistaken complimentary feeling on their part, and play (for a change) the Lancers, Tiddledy tiddledy rum ti tum. Becoming a little wild, I dance by myself on the lawn. The maid comes out. "Would I step in and kill an earwig?" With pleasure-bowing figure-and my tiddledy iddledy rum ti tum.

Night. The turmoil has all passed. I walk down the lawn and gaze on the calmly flowing river. Is it possible? There is the punt and the man, fishing. He'd been a little higher up. Caught anything? "Nothing." Gardener informs me that people often come out for a week's fishing. I suppose he's come out for a week's fishing. Neighbour over the hedge asks me, "Would I like to have a look at Jupiter?" I say I won't trouble him. He says no trouble, just get the focus, stop the earth's motion, and there you are. He does get the focus, stops the earth's motion with his instrument, and, consequently, there I am. I leave

Typical

checking the earth's motion being a little out t order.

Happy Thought.-I have found a more chaning "Retreat" on the banks of the Thames, ¿e, to retreat altogether. Have heard of an old Fendal Castle to be let. Shall go there. Shan't take my mother, nor my aunt, and, of course, not Miss

Happy Thought.-To be alone. Moat and remote; put that into Typical Developments, Chap. I. We have packed up everything. I open my note-book of memoranda to see if I've left anything behind. I walk down the lawn to see if I've left anything behind there. Yes! there he is. The man in the punt, still fishing. He says he's been a little lower down. Any sport! None." Caught anything here! "Nothing. Good bye. "Good bye." And so I go away and leave him behind.

ES," remarked the old gentleman from the Eastern States, folding his hands and steadying his gaze upon a mark on the floor, "I DID know a story--a little incident- of our simple daily life in Vermont, which might perhaps not be considered too old-fashioned to interest you whilst we are waiting here for the stage."

Pray proceed," we all cried in a chorus to gether; and the old gentleman again folded his hands and began :-

"One winter evening, a country storekeeper in the Green Mountain State was about closing up for the night, and while standing in the snow outside, putting up the window shutters, saw through the glass a lounging worthless fellow within grab a pound of fresh butter from the shelf, and conceal it in his hat.

"The act was no sooner detected than the revenge was hit upon, and a very few minutes found the Green Mountain storekeeper at once indulging his appetite for fun to the fullest extent, and paying off the thief with a facetions sort of torture, for which he would have gained a premium from the old Inquisition.

head, and the roll of butter in his hat, anxious to make his exit as soon as possible.

-I say, Seth, sit down. I reckon, now, on such a cold night as this a little something warm would not hurt a fellow.'

"Seth felt very uncertain. He had the butter, and was exceedingly anxious to be off; but the temptation of something warm sadly interfered with his resolution to go.

"This hesitation was settled by the owner of the butter taking Seth by the shoulders and planting him in a seat close to the stove, where he was in such a manner cornered in by the boxes and barrels that, while the grocer stood before him, there was no possibility of getting out; and right in this very place, sure enough, the storekeeper sat down.

Seth, we'll have a little warm Santa Cruz, said the Green Mountain grocer; so he opened the stove door, and stuffed in as many sticks as the place would admit: without it you'd freeze going out such a night as this.'

"Seth already felt the butter settling down closer to his hair; and he jumped up, declaring he

must go.

66.

Not till you have something warm, Seth. Come, I've got a story to tell you.' "And Seth was again rushed into his seat by his cunning tormentor.

"Oh, it's so hot here,' said the petty thief,

"Sit down-don't be in such a hurry,' retorted the grocer, pushing him back into his chair.

"But I've got the cows to fodder and the wood to split-I must be going,' said the persecuted chap.

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"But you mustn't tear yourself away, Seth, in this manner. Sit down, let the cows take care of themselves, and keep yourself easy. You appear to be a little fidgety,' said the roguish grocer, with a wicked leer.

"The next thing was the production of two smoking glasses of hot toddy, the very sight of which, in Seth's present situation, would have made the hair stand erect upon his head had it not been well oiled and kept down by the butter. "Seth, I will give you a toast, now, and you can butter it yourself,' said the grocer, with an air of such consummate simplicity, that poor Seth believed himself unsuspected.

"Seth, here's-here's a Christmas Goose, well roasted-eh? I tell you, it's the greatest in creation. And, Seth, don't you never use hog's fat, or common cooking butter, to baste it with. Come, take your butter-I mean, Seth, take your toddy.' "Poor Seth now began to smoke as well as melt, and his mouth was hermetically sealed up, as though he had been born dumb.

"Streak after streak of butter came pouring from under his hat, and his handkerchief was already soaked with the greasy overflow.

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'Talking away as if nothing was the matter, the fun-loving grocer kept stuffing wood into the stove, while poor Seth sat upright, with his back against the counter, and his knees touching the red-hot furnace before him.

"Cold night this,' said the grocer. 'Why, Seth, you seem to perspire as if you were warm. Why don't you take your hat off? Here, let me put your hat away.'

"No!' exclaimed poor Seth at last. 'No! I must go! "Let me out!

"I ain't well!

"Let me go!'

A greasy cataract was now pouring down the poor man's face and neck, and soaking into his clothes, and trickling down his body into his boots, so that he was literally in a perfect bath of oil.

"Well, good night, Seth,' said the humorous Vermonter-'if you will go!' And adding, as he started out of the door'I say, Seth, I reckon the fun I have had out of you is worth ninepence, so I shan't charge you for that pound of butter in your hat.'"